Under the Darkened Sky
by LordAnarchy666
Summary: Or, Not Another Harry/Daphne Sigh Story. If you've read one, you've read them all. A mediocre and bland attempt at writing a normal story that doesn't involve all the cliche crap we all hate seeing with this pairing. Sort of.
1. Chapter 1

I felt like I had just been sucker punched. Her words rang in my ears even as I walked aimlessly away, lost in a sea of misery and despair.

"Sorry, Harry, I already got a date," Parvati Patil had said to me. Oh, the agony I felt at those words.

I didn't know what to do, so I simply accepted my failure and disappointment. When I looked around the common room, I saw that every single girl in my year and up, and even some of the lowers, had a date. Yet, I was a Triwizard Champion and I couldn't get one.

"Bad luck, mate," Ron said as he caught up to me.

"At least you can skip out on the whole thing altogether," I said with frustration. "I _have _to have a date. What kind of rule is that?"

"It's tradition," Ron said with a shrug, and with a bit of sympathy.

"A tradition that hasn't been done in over three hundred years," I grumbled. "Three hundred years is a long time, even by wizarding standards."

"I don't disagree with you, mate, but tradition is sometimes all we have. I do want to go, but… I'm not sure if I want to go badly enough where I have to take Eloise Midgen as a date. I don't think I like tradition _that _much. And that's not to mention that awful dress robe I have."

"If you take her, then who will I get? Getting a first year and giving them an aging potion isn't my idea of following the 'tradition'".

Ron snorted. "Yeah, you'll have all sorts willing to do that. It's a shame that no one is actually willing to say yes to you date-stealing. But… there is one person I think that can't possibly have a date."

He left the words hanging in the air, just waiting for me to ask. He wasn't just going to come out and say it. He was enjoying my anguish all too much.

"And who's that?" I finally asked with a resigned sigh. By Ron's tone, I knew it couldn't be good.

"Millicent Bulstrode," Ron said flatly, allowing his words to sink in or hit me like a sack of bricks. And boy, did they ever.

"You've got to be kidding me, Ron," I blurted in surprise. "There's no way that I'd ask her, and there's even a lesser chance that she'd say yes. I mean, she doesn't even like me, and our houses have been rivals for centuries –"

"You're preaching, mate, I know. But think about it from her perspective," Ron said, surprising me with his attempt to use logic. "There's no way someone would be crazy – or blind enough – to ask her. And it's you. Them purebloods get uppity about that kind of stuff, but you'd be a real trophy to them. She couldn't possibly say no, not without thinking of all the possibilities and accolades she would get from accompanying you to the Ball."

"But –"

"Look. You ask her, and I'll ask Eloise. It's all about the girl, right? I'm sure Bulstrode would feel real special."

"I'll be laughed at," I said sullenly and defeated. "Alright. I'll do it. Remind me to hate you afterwards, alright?"

"Sure thing," Ron said with a laugh. He was way too cheerful about the whole situation. Or perhaps his laughter at my misfortune was a cover up for his own misfortune. That's what I would do.

I pulled out the Marauders' Map and perused it, looking for our potentials. I pointed to where Eloise Midgen was (outside with some other Hufflepuffs), and Ron left immediately to go ask her. I wished him the best of luck. Maybe he wouldn't have a second Fleur incident, but I secretly thought that would be hilarious.

Regardless, Millicent Bulstrode was also outside, but in one of the student greenhouses, alone. Thank Merlin for the small favors. I wouldn't be caught dead talking to her.

I walked down to said greenhouse, albeit I was hardly in a rush. The inside of the castle seemed very bleak, and outside was just as dreary. Or perhaps that was just my mood, painting the world in monochrome.

I knew there was an Herbology club or something, but standing around all day in a sweltering hot greenhouse wasn't my idea of fun. A lot of students who didn't excel in any other particular subject could be found in the club. Case in point – Millicent Bulstrode.

She was a mountain of a woman. Not overweight, mind you, but a real butch type. A female version of Goyle, perhaps even taller. She had a strong jaw and a massive amount of brown hair, worn plainly.

I gulped, suddenly very aware that this girl could probably crush my skull. But, I gathered my nerve and walked up to her while also noticing she stood a head taller than me. Gulp.

Clearing my throat, I tapped the girl on shoulder as she was potting a plant. "Hey, uh, Bulstrode, I… uh…"

She turned around quickly, but not quickly enough to ruin her hard work. Her eyes widened just a fraction in surprise at seeing me. "Potter…? What do you want?"

Her voice was deeper than mine. Hell, it was probably deeper than any guy's voice in my year or the year above. Well, her voice wasn't really that deep, but I was a bit surprised at how quiet she was for being such a broad-shouldered girl.

"I… erm, wanted to know if you wanted to go to the Ball with me," I said lamely.

She laughed. By Merlin, she laughed right in my face, and what a diabolical laugh it was. "You?" she said, pointing at me. "Want to go to the ball, with me? Good one, Potter, good one."

"I'm serious," I replied. "Will you go with me?"

"No, Potter, I will not." She started to turn back around to her work, but I stopped her.

"Why not?" I asked. It was a logical question.

"I'll spell it out for you, Potter," she said, poking me in the chest. It hurt. "I can take one guess as to why you asked me. You waited until the last minute, and all the girls you wanted to ask were taken, and then you thought 'Oh, there's got to be some girls who would never be asked out, so I'll ask one of them'"

"Well, actually, you were the last resort after the last resort," I clarified. I internally winced after I said it, but the damage was already done.

"Oh, you really know how to make a girl feel special, don't you?" Bulstrode said sarcastically. "Well, I already have a date, so you can go bugger yourself."

"You," I said slowly, "have a date?"

"Don't look so surprised, Potter. I'm not as much of a pansy as you are, and I am self aware. I knew it was unlikely that someone would ask me, so I took the initiative.

"Oh? And who's the lucky boy?" I asked dryly.

"Theodore Nott. He had his eye's set on Lucretia Moon - as if she'd say yes. I know I'm not blessed with tits like that Veela tart, but I do know how to use my body to its full advantage. I promised Nott I'd break his fingers one by one until he asked me, in front of the other Slytherins."

"How… charming…"

"Oh, fuck you, Potter. I did that weeks ago, and here you are, scrambling around, trying to find any girl who doesn't already have any plans. Good luck."

"But you don't understand –" I started to say.

"I think I do –" She cut me off.

"No, you don't" I cut back in. "I _need _a date. All the champions do. If I wasn't required to go, I wouldn't be."

"Right," Millicent drawled. "Instead, you'd probably be wanking to pictures of Veela in whatever magazine you could steal from an older student."

I blinked a few times, surprised that she had really just said that. "Okay, let me try a different approach. I'm the _Hogwarts'_ Champion. Not _Gryffindor _Champion. I am representing all of us. So, if I go to this Ball, without a partner, I will make us all look bad."

She laughed again. "Do you honestly think anyone here cares what about what our media thinks about what the _French _media thinks about us? Or the Germans? The answer is 'no'. It's not about the Champions or some silly Tasks, it's all about building relationships and contacts with those who you would not normally have the chance to. Or, at least, that's what anyone with half a brain realizes."

"Uh, huh," I said, trying to not get angry. I realized this plan was a lost cause. "But that still doesn't help me with my dilemma. Well, thanks for the talk in any case."

I heard her sigh as I turned to leave, pulling my heavy robes closer to myself. The weather was just a bit too British, even though we were in the Highlands of Scotland. It was more than cold enough to snow, but of course, being where we were, it was cold enough to snow quite often.

I left the warmth of the greenhouse behind, regrettably, and headed for the lake. It wasn't snowing at the moment, and for that I was thankful, but it was quite windy. Even more so at the water's edge.

Stopping at the edge of lake to contemplate the futility of my life, I didn't hear someone approach me until she tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around, surprised to see Millicent there.

"Here to gloat some more," I said snidely, and I came off a bit ruder than I meant.

"You're alright, Potter," she admitted to me. "You don't fit the picture that everyone's tried to paint you as, and I like that. It just happens that I know someone who has no date."

"Oh, is that so?" I asked, again, dripping a bit of malice into my voice that I really didn't mean. Thankfully, Millicent ignored my frustration.

"Yes. The problem is that she's going home for Festival, so you're going to have to convince her to stay and go with you. Sounds easy, eh?"

"Nothing involving me is ever easy," I shot back. "Do I know her?"

"You share all our classes with her, so yeah. Daphne Greengrass."

"Her?" I said with surprise. "She wasn't even on my list, because I'd figured that she'd probably already had a ton of prospects."

"Nothing is so cut and dry, Potter, you've shown me that today. If you hurry, you can probably find her in – "

"The library?" I finished. "I know. She's there more than Hermione – Charm's Club, I think?"

"Right. Well, I'd suggest running before it's too late. Once she's in the common room, you'll be shit out of luck."

So that's what I did. I didn't bother with a farewell, not like Bulstrode would care, and I ran back up to the castle. I was freezing anyways, so I didn't need to be told twice.

Once inside, I slowed down to a more dignified pace. One, the castle is large and it's grounds were even larger, so running for so long got me winded, and two, I didn't want people to ask me the awkward question of "why are you running?" or "where's the fire?" and other similarly useless questions.

I've spent too much time for my liking in the library, considering my disposition for studying, but I've been there enough to whereas no one took a second glance at me when I entered. Thankfully.

Taking a slow lap through the rows of bookshelves, I pretended like I was browsing for something when I was actually just looking for the girl. I knew who she was, obviously, as having four years of classes together kind of did that, but I never really talked to her much, and never outside of class. That wasn't atypical.

She was sitting at a table in a secluded nook in the library with another girl. I've seen the other girl before, but I didn't know her name. Deciding to be brave, I walked up to an empty chair and calmly asked "Can I sit here?"

Daphne casually looked up from her book and made eye contact with me. Her eyes were a fairly pretty blue, and she responded "That depends. If you're here to ask me to do your homework, then you can bugger off. If not, well, it better be interesting."

I was caught off guard by her brazen attitude, but I didn't let it show. I looked between the two girls, Daphne having hair the color of hay, and the other being a younger red head. The red head whispered something to Daphne while I took a seat.

"Well, I'll just come out and say it then. Daphne, would you like to go to the Yule Ball with me?"

Daphne turned to the red head. "You're right, Astoria, he's not very interesting."

"Who's not very interesting?" I asked.

"You," the red head, Astoria, said with a girlish laugh.

"Ok then…" I said, turning my attention back to Daphne. "Now that that's been established, what do you say, Daphne? I know we've never talked outside of class, but that's mostly due to our Houses and nothing personal… and I know I'm cutting a bit close with the timing…"

Daphne's expression turned serious for a second. "Why me? And how do you know I'm not going with anyone? Or that I plan on going at all?"

"I talked to Bulstrode and –"

"Oh, you asked her to the ball first, and got denied?" Greengrass said with a halting laugh. "That's cute. So, I'm rated below her - that makes me feel real special."

"Slow down now, I meant no insult. There's other people I didn't even consider asking as well, but you got recommended. I didn't bother asking Mandy Brocklehurst –"

"Who is going with Terry Boot," Greengrass replied quickly.

"Or Morag MacDougal," I continued.

"Going home for Festival," Daphne said with a bored tone.

'...Su Li."

"Going with Michael Corner," she said, again with the bored voice.

"Hannah Abbot-"

"Going home for Festival," Daphne said again.

"Lisa Turpin…"

"Going home for Festival," She said once more, and this time with Astoria echoing her.

"Megan Jones…"

"Going home for Festival."

"And you," I finished.

"Going. Home. For. Festival." She said pointedly.

I sighed in defeat, and my shoulders slumped. "What do I have to do to convince you to go with me?"

"You should have asked sooner," she said nonchalantly.

"That's exactly what Hermione said," I replied sullenly.

"Well, that one thing she's got right. You do realize the train leaves tomorrow, right? If you have any chance of getting me to agree to go with you, the price is going to be steep."

"What, like gold?" I asked in surprise.

"I'm not some common whore, you ass," she shot back. "Try again."

"A trade then?" I said slowly. "I'm not sure…"

"Well, you better be sure, because as I see it, if you don't get a date, you might as well just give up any thoughts of a future because you'll be the greatest laughing stock the school has seen this century."

"Don't remind me," I said with exasperation. "Alright, what do you want that I have? The list can't be that long… uh, my broom –"

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Boy and their toys. I'm not interested in –"

"I'll go with you for your Firebolt," Astoria said quickly.

"Oh, shush, Astoria," Daphne said with a sigh. "I don't get the fascinations with brooms.

"Right, well, I don't really have much else of value…" I said. There was zero chance of me mentioning my dad's invisibility cloak. I only mentioned the Firebolt since there was no Quidditch this year, and the chances of it coming handy again like in the First Task seemed nearly nonexistent to me.

"I'm not talking about monetary value," Daphne said with patience. "I'm talking about what's up here -"

She poked me in the head, hard. At least she wasn't a brute like Bulstrode.

"Ow, what was that for?"

"We've only heard rumors of what you've gotten up to during the school years here, and not even substantial rumors at that. There's been talk of a Philosopher's Stone, the Chamber of Secrets, Werewolves, Sirius Black…"

"You want to see the Chamber of Secrets?" I asked. "I can do that."

"No," She said quickly. "Well, kind of, but trading a 'date' for the opportunity to see an old room with a thousand years worth of muck and grime doesn't seem appropriate. No, I have a different idea. I want you to teach me the Patronus Charm."

"You want me to teach you the Patronus Charm?" I repeated.

"That's what I just said," Greengrass replied with extreme patience.

"I can't teach you that between now and the Ball," I told her reasonably. And it was true. "It took me months to learn it from an actual teacher."

"Oh, and I want you to teach Astoria as well. And I want to learn it before the second task. Just in case you die, so you can't leave us hanging."

"…Right. So if I say yes, you will say yes to going with me?"

"On one condition," Daphne continued. She enjoyed having the upper hand, and she didn't hide her smugness. "You need to learn how to dance properly and you need a proper outfit. I will not have my date looking like a slovenly pauper."

"I don't think there's enough time in the day to learn how to dance and teach the Patronus."

"That's alright. Astoria will teach you to dance, and then you'll teach us the spell after the Ball."

"Ok. That sounds fair," I responded. What other choice did I have? I'd still have to figure out the egg clue as well, but I could only take things as they happened one at a time. I'd worry about that later.

"Fair? Hardly. Dancing is easy, as is wearing a good outfit. So really, you're in my debt until we've both learned the spell."

"That's fair too… I suppose." I sighed. I sighed heavily. Talk about making leaps of faith. I couldn't believe she was actually going for it, even though the price would be high - for me at least.

"Do you even know what Festival we're talking about?" Daphne asked offhandedly.

I had wondered that, but I wouldn't admit it. Truth be told I was clueless, but I wouldn't say that out loud either, so I took a guess. "Midwinter?"

Daphne narrowed her eyes at me. "Nice guess, Potter," she said after a second. "It's far more interesting than whatever Muggle rubbish the majority of people here are celebrating this week. It actually involves, you know, magic, so it's far more relevant to our culture as a whole than some mundane holiday."

I shrugged, not caring one way or another. I realized she was probably trying to get a reaction out of me, or at least a read on me. I wasn't particularly religious, and the only holidays I ever celebrated were the ones my friends celebrated, which were the ones that were celebrated at Hogwarts. It wasn't something I gave much thought to, as it didn't influence my day to day life. "It's not so important that you won't go to the ball with me?" I asked eventually.

"It's a festival, Potter, a celebration. It's not some occultist ritual of sacrifice. Nothing will happen if I don't attend, and there are other ways to pay respect to the old traditions of Magic. I'm committing myself to this, so I will write to father to tell him I won't be home. You better not flake out on me now."

"My word is good," I stated confidently. "If there's one thing you've must've heard about me, it's that."

Daphne shrugged, looked up at the library's clock, closed her book, and stood up. "Well, this conversation has been enlightening. You will meet me in the abandoned corner Charms classroom on the fourth floor. Be there no later than 9 am. If you don't show up, I'll be on the train home. Enjoy your dinner, and if I find out that you've been bragging to your friends, I'll castrate you."

With that calm threat, the two girls left, and I was there by myself to mull over her words. There was only one word to describe my feelings.

"Fuck."


	2. Chapter 2

The previous night had been hectic, but I had earned the right to be smug. Midgen had said yes to Ron. When Ron asked me if I got my date, I had said yes. I never specified that it wasn't with Millicient Bulstrode, and he assumed it was. I'll have the last laugh, or so I hope.

I arrived early to the meeting, nearly thirty minutes, but the red headed girl – Astoria? - was already there. It was the weekend, and getting up at the crack of dawn so I could be ready for a… for a… _dance_ lesson was wrong on so many levels. I didn't even have an opportunity to get breakfast. I didn't want to chance missing the meeting.

Daphne Greengrass herself was nowhere to be seen. She had said that Astoria would be teaching me, but she had also said that I would be meeting _her_ here at nine. It was a bit odd, so I just made sure my wand was always within reach. Just in case. I had a history with their Housemates, and I didn't know how far that extended. I would not let my defense fall in my haste - Constant vigilance and all that.

Not that that would change anything. I was either going to the ball with Daphne, or I'd probably be in the hospital wing. So, I'd learn the dance if it was the last thing I ever did.

I took a seat across from the red headed girl, who was currently filing her nails. She wore casual robes, and although they were obviously high quality and tailored, they were inconspicuous.

I used to think robes were an absurd fashion statement, but I have since learned the errors of my ways. You learn that quickly when you live at Hogwarts. You'll grow to appreciate them when walking around the drafty halls of this place. Even more so when you have potions lessons in the dark, cold bowels of the castle. There were no heaters, and good luck finding a piece of warming magic that lasts more than a few minutes and doesn't set your clothes on fire.

"Astoria, was it?" I asked as an opener.

She nodded her head. "Astoria Greengrass, second year Slytherin, Daughter of Rosalynn and Adrian Greengrass. Do you wish to know my bra size as well would you like to cut to the chase?"

"Er, well, so your Daphne's younger sister? She said she would be here…"

"She said she would be here for the meeting at nine. It's not nine yet, is it?"

"Well, no."

"So what's the problem?" She asked with some venom.

"Uh, nothing, I guess," I said lamely.

"Good. Now show me your outfit."

So I did. It was black, black, and more black, with hints of red and grey. I put it on, stood in front of the mirror I hadn't noticed when walking in, and realized I looked like a Viscount or something. Surely this style hadn't been popular in centuries?

Just then, the door opened and in came Daphne. She was also only in casual fare, and I thought it a bit unfair that I was the only one playing dress up.

"Could be worse, Potter," she said, taking a look at my robe. "It's not bad. Muffin?"

It was then I saw that she had brought a basket, and in that basket was a various assortment of breakfastry. Muffins, bacon, toast, bacon, fruit, and bacon, and some other stuff, like bacon. If only.

"Is it poisoned?" I asked.

"Do I look like the kind of – never mind, I don't want to know. Do you wish it to be poisoned? Has Astoria made you that miserable?"

"No, well, not yet at any rate. I am sort of hungry though…"

"That's good to know. That means you'll be extra motivated."

"Why's that?" I said dully.

"Because you won't be getting any food until you've made progress."

"Oh, that's so…" I grumbled.

"Unfair?" Daphne suggested.

"Brilliant?" Astoria countered.

"Typical," I corrected. "Bloody typical."

"Cheer up. You could be here with Bulstrode."

That did cheer me up a bit. I had lucked out, although perhaps I wouldn't have had to go through learning to dance with Bulstrode. At least Daphne was sort of pretty. She wasn't exotic like Cho Chang, but she was cute. And the ink stains added some character, as I don't think she realized they were there. It was a chink in her well-groomed armor, and it was quite funny.

The blonde haired girl took a seat at the table next to her sister, settling a book to her right, and the basket of food to her left. Upon noticing me staring longingly at the basket, she said "Well, what are you waiting for? The sooner you start dancing, the sooner you can have food."

I didn't like being blackmailed. Or foodmailed. Yeah, that sounded pretty bad to me, too, and I made sure to never use that term in an actual conversation.

"Well, There's no time like the present," I said lightly. "What do I do?"

"First, you will put any silly thoughts of Quidditch or girls out of your mind," the elder Greengrass sister said with a hint of disdain. "Then, you will follow Astoria's lead. You need to concentrate."

So, that's what I did. I tried to remain dignified and not smile, but her comment was just too funny. Astoria had turned into a total hard ass since the previous day, and watching a twelve year old try to act tough was amusing. She was either mad at her sister for forcing her to do this, or perhaps she was merely emulating her sister. It was hard to tell – not that I was an expert at reading girls. I doubt such a thing exists.

"What are you smiling at, Potter?" Astoria asked testily. "Did I do something funny?"

"N-no," I said, holding it back.

"Good. Now, put your arm on my waist, and take my hand."

I tentatively took my right arm, and carefully and with much deliberation, put it on her waist. Astoria wasn't much shorter than me, maybe two inches, but I was hardly the tallest boy in the year. Her red hair was a normal red, not the blinding reddish-orange that the Weasley's had, and if she was a few years older, I'd consider her pretty.

She was just a brat though, a second year, and being taught how to dance by her was a humbling experience.

We started off slow, with me following her every move. My movements were very stiff, as I was trying to drone out the whole experience. I hadn't realized how much I hated dancing until this event, as I had never even been exposed to it. I had heard of some students having dance classes in muggle schools, but I didn't, and I don't envy them.

I stepped on her toes a few times, and by a few times, I meant constantly. After a particularly hard step, she kicked me back in the shin, and without even mentioning the incident, we continued.

Progress was slow. But, progress was progress.

After about an hour of starvation and intense, yet boring, concentration, I finally managed a whole round of not stepping on her toes. I only had a split second to act after that accomplishment. I turned quickly enough on the draw to make an American cowboy proud, and snatched the flying muffin out of the air with my hand.

I took a bite out of it, and made a toasting motion to Daphne. She smiled, briefly, before turning her attention back to whatever she was reading. By the way it held her interest, I'm sure it had to be Charles Dickens, or perhaps it was a series of journalistic entries about the impact of the Magna Carta.

That wasn't uncommon - the reading part, that is. There wasn't much to do at Hogwarts, so most people either dedicated themselves to Quidditch type activities, or academics. While it wasn't quite that extreme of a polarization, there was a surprising amount of people who dedicated themselves to their studies. I wasn't one of them, but that didn't bother me. Hermione was my best friend after all.

I tried my best to learn the dance, and after three or four hours, I felt I had a reasonable grasp on it, and I said as much. "I think I got a good grasp of the dance. I should be ready for the Ball."

Her response was to laugh in my face. "Yeah, don't be so sure of that. We will work on it again next time. For now, though, you at least familiarize yourself with the other six dances that you need to know."

"...Six?" I said slowly.

"Indeed, Potter. Surely you didn't think you were going to be done that fast? Ha, as if."

* * *

When I finally made it back to my dorm, I had a lot on my mind, and rightfully so. My arms and legs were stiff from the repetitive dances, and my shins were sore from being kicked so many times. I was trying to avoid Ron and Hermione, as I figured they were probably looking for me. That meant I had to hide where they would least expect me to go, which just happened to be Hermione's favorite spot. I was hedging on Ron protesting profusely about me not going there voluntarily.

So, I grabbed my bag, my quills, and some parchment, and went off to the library. Hermione's studying habits weren't atypical as a whole, but being muggleborn, she was just more outspoken than the rest, and she really had a hard time trying to fit into a society she thought was inferior to her own. She had a point, seeing as how the wizarding world was dying out, and the muggle world was in an age of innovation with technology that I didn't understand. Me, on the other hand, don't really consider myself a part of either society, firstly because of the way I was raised with the Dursley's, and second, mostly because of my ignorance. Perhaps I was better off that way, as the wizarding world would have expectations of me that I couldn't possibly meet.

I continued down this train of thought for a bit, getting side tracked thinking about the habits of the girls I know. I decided that my ignorance was my fault in the first place, so it was on me to figure it out, and I just happened to need something to occupy my thoughts with. Daphne had given me a hint, or, at least I think she did. If I was honest with myself, I knew nothing about the wizarding world outside of the Burrow, Hogwarts, and Diagon Alley, and those were all a bit biased.

That how I found myself reading up on the Midwinter Festival, rather than figuring out my egg clue for the second task.

It was interesting stuff really, if a bit quaint. I found myself drawn to the ideals, since I had none to call my own. I wasn't religious, and the only reason I celebrated Christmas was because my friends did, but I knew the vast majority of the school wasn't religious either, at least in the traditional sense. And that's the key word – tradition. It was nice to have something to consider yourself a part of, and I didn't have that.

I had no family, no traditions to call my own, so I was drawn to what I was reading. It was possible to take these as my own, to actually be a part of something, but it would take work and effort, which I wasn't sure I had the time to do, considering the Tournament would be eating up a lot of my time if I ever decided to figure out the clue.

Either way, there wasn't much for it. I've been at Hogwarts for four years, and hadn't so much as been slightly interested in the wizarding world beyond these walls. I don't know what wizards do after the graduated – other than what I know the Weasley's do. I don't know what they do in their free time – again, other than what the Weasley's do. Quidditch, presumably, but surely there's a lot more going on than that. I'm sure the pureblood types didn't think much of me, since I haven't bothered to even try and understand what their world is like.

I didn't read the book for too long. I wasn't really one for reading, and I knew there would be much more about the outside world than what I can read in a dusty book. But, at least, I knew some of the questions I could ask, but it would have to be in a very subtle way.

It was kind of ironic that my only 'in' to their world was a girl that I hadn't even thought of asking out, and who only said yes to learn a piece of magic that she wouldn't be able to learn elsewhere.

But, she had said yes, and therefore would be missing her holiday. Perhaps there was a way to make that up to her, so I wouldn't be thought of as an ass.

Perhaps it was just a way to kill two birds with one stone, or to sate my boredom. I ditched the history books – not that I got very far in any of them – and began a new hunt. I didn't care much about learning and reading just for the sake of reading, but if it served a purpose, or would help me accomplish and objective, then sure, I'd read a bit.

* * *

It was much later when I ambled down to the Great Hall for dinner. My hair was a bit mussed – more so than usual – and my clothes were wrinkled from much fussing. And, there might have been a slight smell of burnt hair, but I would deny that. I had started work on a simple project, and while it was fun experimenting with unknowns, it was dangerous. But, that's part of what made it fun.

I took a seat across from Ron and Hermione and started piling my plate with food. I was starving, and after a few seconds, I had pretty much one of everything on my plate.

"Where've you been, mate?" Ron asked after adding some more chicken to his plate. He ate a lot quicker than me, and I think he could give both Goyle and Crabbe a run for their money in an eating competition.

"You know how it is," I said. "_She_ wants to make sure I know how to dance, otherwise she may break me in half if I mess it up. And, if I say no, she'd probably break me in half anyways."

Ron winced in sympathy and gave me a mocking pat on the shoulder. "Ouch. I guess that's the price you pay for waiting so long."

I nodded my head sadly, but I was secretly laughing on the inside. Well, not so much as laughing, as hoping that this all doesn't backfire on me. It was a very real possibility, but my luck only had to hold out for a few more days, and then Ron would be looking like an idiot. Pay back is a bitch, and he had earned it from when he didn't believe that I didn't put my name in the Goblet.

"I'm looking at it as if it's another challenge in this tournament. I went up against a dragon and survived, and I'm pretty sure I don't have to worry about firebreathing this time around."

"Yeah, this should be easy compared to that, but it would be nice to just get it over with already. I don't envy you, not anymore," Ron said. After a second, he added, "I wouldn't be too sure about the fire breathing either, you never know with girls… could be that time of the month."

Ron had whispered the last part, but Hermione still heard him. "Ronald!" She scolded, punching him in the arm.

"What?" He asked, looking genuinely confused.

"Don't – I - it's not funny," she finished lamely.

I had to repress a grin, but failed. "Nah, it's pretty funny. It looked like you were about to spit fire there yourself."

"Don't be crude," Hermione said, sniffing in disdain. I rolled my eyes, and if she noticed, she didn't react. "It's only a dance. It's not like it's the end of the world."

"Say's you," Ron retorted. "You still haven't told us who you're going with."

"You'll have to wait until the Ball," she replied tersely. "If you weren't so pig-headed, you might even be able to enjoy it. How often too we get this kind of opportunity?"

"Too often if you ask me," he grumbled.

"It's no wonder why no girl wanted to go with you," Hermione said dryly. "Such a charming personality you have."

"Yeah, you're one to talk," Ron said hotly. I could tell this conversation wasn't just a joke anymore.

"Oh?" Hermione said, raising an frizzled eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"We're your friends and you won't even talk to us without lecturing about our idiocy, or on some boring topic. You won't tell us who you're date is, yet it's ever-so-amusing who ours are. You've got it in your head that you know better than wizards and house elves with what they want, and worse of all, you don't even realize you're doing it, because you must always be right!"

"I'm just going to go over here now…" I said calmly. "I'll let your brothers know they need to plan your funeral."

I eyed my dinner with mistrust as I scooted away from the impending shitstorm. I was suddenly not feeling very hungry. It was not unlike the feeling I got before the first task, knowing I was about to face a dragon. Perhaps I was getting cold feet, but I was suddenly feeling very nervous about the upcoming dance – probably due to the argument that was happening. Tempers were flaring, and I was feeling very uncomfortable.

I dropped my fork and put my head in my hands, and Ron and Hermione took that as frustration from their bickering, but it wasn't that. It was a feeling of dread, or maybe of impending doom, but I was feeling very over my head at the moment. I didn't know how to treat a girl (although I knew that Ron's method of shouting wasn't the way to go), and I knew just rushing headfirst into the situation like I had been would only work for so long.

The ball was something beyond my limited skill set and knowledge, and it wasn't something I could prepare for. Perhaps t hat was why I was getting a sudden case of nerves. At least with the dragon and some foreknowledge, I could prepare, but taking a girl to a dance wasn't something you could do that for. This was something that could really only be learned by actually doing it, and that was the scariest part of all. I didn't want to mess it up, and just thinking about messing it up made me nervous, and therefore more likely to mess it up.

My courage was failing me, and as I looked at my meal, I couldn't do more than push my peas around in frustration. I sighed, letting out a deep breath of frustration, completely ignoring the bickering beside me. Learning to dance wasn't even half the battle, and I couldn't even do that right.

Finally, I just dropped my utensils, got up off the bench, grabbed my stuff, and left. The time between now and the ball felt like an eternity, but I didn't need an argument to add to the mental trauma as well. For now, all I could really do was wait.

I'll be much happier once this as all behind me, that's for sure. It was one thing to be forced into a legendary, historical, and deadly tournament where dragons were merely an appetizer. It's another thing to force me to dance.


	3. Chapter 3

The morning started off like every other Christmas morning since I've been at Hogwarts. Ron got me something very cheap – in this case it was a bag of dungbombs, which he presumably 'acquired' from his brothers. Hermione got me a book for the fourth year in a row, on Quidditch – Quidditch is the go to idea if you have no clue what to get someone. I also got a box of candy from Hagrid (also a go-to gift), a magical penknife from Sirius that could allegedly open any lock, and some other stuff I didn't really care about.

I had separated from Ron on the way to the Champion's meeting location for the Yule Ball, which was the side room we had congregated in originally. I passed many girls on the way there, all chatting and mingling and stuff, but I was too nervous to even talk. My nerves didn't stop me from subtle staring at some of the girls, and I quite wished that some of their dresses were normal Hogwarts attire, since then no day would be boring. There was a lot of skin showing.

I didn't trust myself to speak at all, not even when I made it to the side room. I allowed myself a breather when I noticed that Greengrass wasn't there yet, but then a stray thought hit me – _"What if she's not coming?"_

Memories of my time at the Dursley's sprang forth, such as when I got my Hogwarts letter, wondering if it was all a joke and come September first, nothing would happen. Or before I got sorted, wondering what would happen if the hat didn't sort me. Now I was wondering what I would do if my date didn't show up.

Easy. I would hurl myself through a window and hope for a quick and painless death. Or at least a trip to the hospital wing so I could skip the whole thing.

But I needn't have worried. After only a couple minutes of waiting, the door opened, and she popped in. And boy, did she dress up well. She was quite attractive, more so than I gave her credit for originally. I thanked my luck for not getting stuck with Millicent Bulstrode, and scolded myself for not realizing Greengrass's potential earlier. It would have saved me a lot of trouble, but that would be a mistake I won't make twice.

Her dress was quite pretty, only enhancing the girls own looks in all the right ways. It was a dark blue, and had all the bells and whistles you'd expect a pureblood's dress to have for the Ball, and many more besides. It was conservative compared to many of the other dresses I saw when I came in, with minimal cleavage showing with a strapless setup, but perhaps that fact only enhanced her looks.

She was good looking; there was no doubt about that. Nearly every girl attending the ball did so wearing tons of makeup, push up bras, dresses a size too small, tons of glitz and glitter, all in an attempt to appear older, and more mature than they actually were, but Daphne didn't do any of that, even though I was sure it would have made her absolutely mouthwatering.

Her arms had those elbow length gloves on that I'd seen in old photographs, and she had a choker of gold inset with a dark black stone to go with the gold embroidery on her dress, and her great legs were capped off with a pair of heels that were less ridiculous than many of the others I had seen. I guess she actually wanted to have the ability to walk around.

Daphne was dressed within her own code of propriety and tradition, but that didn't stop her from looking great. Quite the opposite was true. She didn't dress up to show off, or try and be someone she wasn't. She dressed up within her own boundaries, and I found myself appreciating that more than anything else.

That was probably because she was pretty damn hot - something I never really noticed while she dressed in normal wear.

I pointedly ignored her teasingly frugal amount of cleavage, and focused on her face, which has a slight nervous and questioning look on it. I developed a quick mantra that would allow my brain to focus and not stutter.

_Don't look at her breasts, don't look at her breasts, don't look at her breasts. _

I knew it would be rude to stare, and it took a lot to go against my ingrained instincts. I'm not even sure when those instincts started, probably last year when I crushed on Cho Chang, but neither her nor Hermione have any breasts to speak of. It was a mystery.

"You look amazing, Daphne," I said honestly. I practiced those words for hours, and she smiled back, so I figured they worked.

"You look good too, Potter," she said curtly. I noticed she still used my last name, which I took to meant we I wasn't high enough on her friend-o-meter yet, but the night was still young.

"I got you a gift, and although it's not as stylish as you're accustomed to, it does have a purpose." I pulled a leather drawstring bag out of a hidden pocket on my dress robes and handed it to her. "I know the Midwinter Festival is important to you, and the fact that you skipped it to come to the Ball as my date means a lot to me, so I wanted to try and make it up to you. I guess it's a token of my thanks."

She opened up the bag carefully, reached in, and pulled out a little bracelet. It was a slender band of silver, nothing intricate, but it was pure. Dangling from it was a little silver shield with a small rune engraved, and it's what I had spent the last several days making.

"As I understand it, it's a customary tradition to give a single gift that will help you with trials in the upcoming year. I know coming from a family like yours, there's probably not much that you couldn't just get yourself, but I made this by hand. It's a charm," Harry explained.

Daphne still didn't say anything, but instead continued to inspect the gift in a curious manner.

"It's a Shield Charm, in a literally and figurative manner I suppose. If you wear that, it will protect you from minor spells and the like until the magic fails. I got the idea from the demonstration in Moody's class actually. You don't have to wear it if you don't want, or you can throw it away if you don't like it, or, I mean – "

"It's lovely, Harry," she said softly, testing my first name. "I've never actually had someone make something me, handcrafted, and I'm touched. I'm not sure exactly what kind of trials you think I'll go through that I'll need protecting from, but it is a wonderful gift nonetheless."

"Well, you're my date, and I figure that makes you a target," I said contemplatively, " I don't mean to frighten you, but there is something very strange going on this year. Someone entered my name into the Goblet with the intent to hurt me, and I wouldn't want anything to happen to you because of that. It doesn't matter that I hardly know you."

"That's… sweet."

"Also, Ron still thinks that I'm going with Bulstrode, so he may be quite cross when he learns the truth."

Daphne laughed, and it was a pleasant sounding laugh. "That is quite devious. I'm sure I could handle him though."

"Well, to be fair, it's not you I'm worried about. It's him, and he does have older brothers."

Then, we paused for several seconds, me staring right at her face, but neither of us stirred.

"Go ahead and look already, Potter," she said with an exasperated sigh, but with a small bemused smile on her face. "You may break your neck if you don't"

So I did. I craned my head to look down at her breasts, and they were lovely. They weren't large by any means, and on a scale of Hermione to Fleur, with Hermione having no breasts at all, and Fleur having enough breasts for two women, Daphne's were average at best.

They were well presented, even if mostly and modestly hidden by her dress, but the dress did cling tightly to her body. Most girls at the ball were dressed to impress, doing anything they could to make it seem like they were older and more developed than they actually were, and some of the older years were quite alluring. They wouldn't do that if it didn't work. There was an inordinate amount of cleavage and leg on display, far more than I was used to in this conservative, traditionalist wizarding world. It was a good day, to be sure.

It was like a game to the girls, I think – posturing, showing off and the like. But it was a game I didn't know the rules of. It was all a bit confusing to someone like myself, and by that, I mean every guy in the room.

But there was one thing that set Daphne's breasts apart from the rest. They were attached to Daphne, and Daphne was _my_ date, and that made all the difference in the world. There were larger ones in the room, and there were better presented ones in the room, but they weren't attached to Daphne, so they were not as good.

My looksie only lasted for a few seconds before my head snapped back up with a smile. "Excellent."

Daphne was different than most and that was mostly due to her upbringing. It's like something finally went right this year and I got a date better than my station.

She was just dressed _nicely._ There was no other way to describe it, and I felt she was dressed properly for the occasion, and while some of the other girls were more provocative, and perhaps a bigger turn-on aesthetically, the way they went about it was a turn-off. She didn't go out of the way to make herself stand out.

Daphne knew how to dress well, something that a surprisingly many girls did not. I can't really complain, since I'm hardly an expert on fashion. And all the girls that didn't know how to dress simply showed more leg and cleavage, and hey, I can't really complain about that either. It wasn't really that she was super exceptional; it was probably that I was easily pleased and I was trying to irrationally justify anyone that would possibly say yes to being my date.

Tonight was a night of deep introspection, but I didn't have time for that. Professor McGonagall had entered the room following the last champion. I had to focus and get my brain into motion, and stop comparing Daphne to other girls.

It was then that I saw who everyone else's date was. Fleur had some older student – something Davies, Cedric had Cho, the bastard, and Krum had Hermione.

That was surprising, but in retrospect, it wasn't. Krum fit the very narrow range of people that Hermione wouldn't tell us about. I merely raised an eyebrow in question, and she just gave a sideways glance at Daphne in response. I shrugged my shoulders, signaling 'point well made' and that was that. Ron didn't know who either of our dates were, so perhaps he wouldn't do anything stupid again, or he'd take his anger out on both of us equally. It would be entertaining either way.

Hermione looked pretty good, better than I would have expected her to be. Then again, the last time I saw her was more than seven hours ago, and by the looks of her, all seven of that was used to get ready for the ball, and probably half that was just on her hair. Still, she was fairly unremarkable in the grand scheme of things, but most would call her pretty, instead of ugly or bushy, which I suppose is what she was going for. Her work paid off, but she wasn't my date and I promptly forgot about her.

"Champions," McGonagall called out. "You will form up and follow me out into the hall, where you shall proceed with the opening dance."

We lined up before her, and somehow I ended up third in line under her scrutinizing gaze. Her look was unfathomable when she saw my date. Perhaps she was disappointed that I didn't pick one of her students, since it was no secret our houses were rivals in pretty much everything. As soon as we were in order, she opened the doors with a wave of her wand, and we marched out.

"Shall we?" I asked, holding my arm out to Daphne. She hooked her own through it, and I put a brave façade on my face. We followed Krum out into the Great Hall.

The first thing I noticed was that the Hall was absolutely filled. When I came down, there was maybe only twenty or thirty people there, and now it seemed like there was two or three hundred, which was damn well nearly everyone fourth year and up, along with several younger students, not to mention the Durmstrang and Beaubaton delegations and all the Professors.

The long, ancient House tables were stacked at the far back of the room, and the other side was filled with a series of small round tables which I had never seen before.

But with everyone standing between all the tables, the Great Hall was packed. And the Great Hall was not a small place, it's called 'Great' for a reason. Still, I put on my happy face and followed the other Champions out to the empty dance floor, under the intense scrutiny of the entire populace.

I let out a deep breath to steel my nerves, and I also tuned out Professor Dumbledore while he greeted everyone and told the band to start playing. No, my sole focus was to not mess up the dance in front of three hundred people, most of which are people who would as soon condemn me a fraud Champion or a cheer me on as a Savior, depending on the day of the week.

As soon as the music started, I turned to Daphne who looked at me expectantly. I had only practiced with her sister who was shorter than me, but Daphne was the same height as me, maybe even a little taller in her shoes. It was clear that she was giving me an opportunity to take the lead, or otherwise be doomed to a mediocre night, so I took it. I knew I wouldn't get a second chance.

I took her hand in mine, and placed my other on her waist, and I couldn't help but notice how slim she was. Skinny, even. As a person who has been scrawny most of my life, I couldn't really find myself caring about how skinny or boney she was, but I still filed it away with the rest of my Daphne Greengrass myths and facts. Every guy had a mental fact sheet about every girl. That was a simple law of nature.

The first dance was one that we had practiced, unsurprisingly, but it was not the first one I learned. Daphne had told me the name of it, but I honestly forget, and also couldn't really care.

But hey, I had my hand on an attractive girl's waist and was in close proximity to her. I couldn't complain.

That dance may have been the longest five minutes of my life though, even longer than when I had to wait for my turn against a dragon. All eyes were upon us, and I'm sure the attention was split between Fleur Delacour and myself, albeit for very different reason. For starters, Fleur was smoking hot, and for me, well, I'm me. Not particularly good looking, nor ugly I felt, scrawny with glasses, but still me, the Boy-Who-Lived.

I knew some people would be curious about my date, not because she's Slytherin, but simply because she's _my_ date. Her qualities and characteristics were wholly unimportant to that fact, and I think people would be more interesting in the 'How' and the 'Why' rather than the 'Who', and frankly, there wouldn't be much to tell.

It was the scrutiny more than anything. I didn't care if people judged me and found me lacking, but it's the mere fact that people judged me against some scale I'm not aware of just because of my moniker, and it was situations like this where it really started to get to me. I could already imagine Rita Skeeter's article in the Daily Prophet, and I could already imagine my hands around her neck slowly squeezing the life out of her. If only.

Still, I didn't let the staring get to me, and I never have. At least they weren't thinking I was the heir of Slytherin. I could deal with jealousy, envy, hate and anger just fine. It's only the illogical and irrational part that bothers me, but that's what wands are for.

The song finished on a final slow note, and I let go of a breath I didn't know I was holding. I had done it. I made it through a whole dance without making a single mistake, and my date was actually beaming at me.

"That was good, Potter," Daphne complimented. "Now just repeat that ten more times in the next hour."

I rolled my eyes. Luckily for me, we only had once dance under the watchful eyes of the entire room. Once the next dance started, Dumbledore took one of the other professors onto the floor – Sinistra, I think – and shortly after many other couples joined in. I was thankful for the reprieve, even if I was still dancing, but I started to feel more comfortable.

I knew I was really only obligated to start the whole event, and could have quit once that first dance was over. In the previous days leading up to the event, I had half a mind to do just that, but for some reason, I didn't even contemplate that. Daphne seemed to be enjoying herself, or rather, she wasn't angry at me, and either case was a win in my book.

The decision came easily. If the choice was to spend a couple hours with an attractive girl, and possibly make her happy, or spending a couple hours brooding and contemplating nothingness, that truly was an easy choice.

The next dances went by faster, although I'm sure they were actually longer. I didn't mind them so much now that everyone else was doing their own thing. We didn't talk much, but it seemed like during every dance we slowly got an inch closer to each other.

She broke the comfortable silence first. "So, you really didn't put your name in?"

I didn't answer right away, deciding what I should tell her. I wasn't going to lie to her, and it seemed wrong to skirt the question to someone who was actually curious, instead of just believing rumors. "I didn't. I had no interest in putting my name in, since trouble just always finds me anyways. This case is no different."

Daphne contemplated my words for a second before nodding. "I've heard some of the stories, but it's hard to separate truth from embellishment."

"I don't really follow to rumor mill enough to be able to correct misconceptions, and I'm not sure I'd want to. One day, someone would ask too much of me. If people know that I've slain a basilisk with nothing more than a sword – which is the truth - and defeated a dragon with a broom, then they'd be less likely to mess with me."

"Yet someone still has," Daphne stated. "Surely you must have a guess?"

"Of course. I don't think it's really a matter of 'who' - it's a matter of 'why'. Obviously this tournament is dangerous and people have died. There's a good chance that could happen to me since I'm severely outclassed. But there just seems to be so many easier solutions if someone really wanted to off me, rather than it being some eight month prolonged event."

"True. It wouldn't be hard to make someone fall down four flights of stairs or poison someone while they aren't looking." Daphne said that would a casual flair that sounded like she had contemplated that before. To be fair, I had spent a lot of time contemplating why someone would want me killed in this specific, prolonged way.

"The timing would be weird, since why this year, and not last year? Of course I'm not thick. It's got to be a plot by You-Know-Who, or at least one of his followers acting as a cat's paw. I was there at the World Cup, not twenty feet away from whoever signaled the Dark Mark in the sky. It can't be a coincidence, and there are people out there who don't think _he_ is dead."

"You Know Who? That seems a bit out there, don't you think?" A small frown went arrived on her face. "I don't think that would be a popular sentiment amongst the population, myself included, since nearly every family bears the scars of that era."

I nodded my head, well aware of that fact. "They never found a body when he tried to kill me, you know, and people don't just disintegrate into thin air. And, I've also seen him. First year. He was surviving off unicorn blood in the Forbidden forest, trying to steal something from Dumbledore to return himself to life. You remember the third floor corridor right? Well, I fought him in there, and he was less than a ghost – not dead, but not quite alive either, and he's been looking for away to return ever since."

Daphne decided to not interrupt me, so I continued with my story.

"Second year was all him. He's the Heir of Slytherin, and anyone with any knowledge of him would have known that. He had an artifact in the school that opened the Chamber of Secrets for him, like a memory, but it was still him. Third year was fairly tame, since the Sirius Black stuff is mostly unconnected."

"You don't think Black is the one who's setting you up?" Daphne asked curiously. "The story is pretty well known, and it would fit. He tried several times last year and was unsuccessful, so perhaps he trying a different tactic?"

"I doubt it. The guy is probably in France or something," I responded. I was hardly going to tell her the truth. "I bet the guy's not even a Death Eater, since there's no documented report of him doing any crimes other than the one everyone knows of. And some of the real ones who managed to evade Azkaban are probably far more dangerous. I don't know, I suspect more than a couple of them are completely barmy with misguided notions of valor and greatness."

Daphne mulled over the idea in her head. "You-Know-Who does make the most sense, I guess, given all the history, even if it is just one of his followers. I guess you're right in saying that he's the obvious answer, although that does sound a bit crazy."

"I can deal with crazy," I assured her. "It's the sane ones that you got to watch out for, especially if they are able to formulate some grand plan that involves me at the center, and being able to predict my every move and have their plan not fail. They are less likely to give a villainous monologue when I'm defeated so there's no chance of foiling their plans at the last second."

"Perhaps their plan has failed," Daphne suggested. Do you know what the second task is? Maybe they expected the dragon to eat you, and don't have a contingency plan."

"When does anything remotely villainous ever work out that smoothly? I haven't solved the clue for the second task yet, but if a dragon was just a starter, I'm sure whatever is in store for me isn't going to be pretty."

I tried to not share too much information with her. I didn't want to get her involved at all, but I was just making small talk. If it wasn't for the deal I had made, I suspect I probably wouldn't even talk to her again after the night was over, but that wasn't the case. At least the conversation took up several dances, which I managed to not mess up.

She genuinely seemed to be enjoying herself though, so that was something. As for myself, I wasn't really disliking or liking it. I was merely fulfilling my duties, and that was it. If at the end of the night Greengrass doesn't curse me, then it would have been a good night.

Another danced went by and I just went through the motions as neither one of us talked. At the end, Daphne spoke up. "Let's take a break, shall we?" She said. "I haven't danced this much in a long time, and I'm starving."

"Sounds good to me," I acquiesced. My legs and feet were getting a bit tired, and I was quite hungry myself. Not to mention, my mind needed a respite from all the mental mayhem I had been going through over the course of the last hour. My brain was starting to repeat and loop on itself. Trying to keep up with a girl was harder than I thought, especially since I was just used to ignoring Hermione whenever she went into her rant-lectures.

I led Daphne over to the most secluded private table I could find, which merely meant it was next to a wall and of out of the way of the main dance floor. I pulled out her chair for her as it seemed to be the thing to do, and got her seated before I sat down myself. The gesture didn't go unnoticed, and she brightened up just a little bit.

There were two menus there, and we each picked up one. Having never experienced this before, I asked, "How does this work?"

Daphne looked at me over the top of the menu. "Just say what you want into the menu, and it will appear on your plate."

She demonstrated this buy calling out an appetizer, and it appeared before us.

"Neat. Do all wizarding restaurants work like this? I've never been to one."

"Not as such," Daphne responded. "There are not that many restaurants, to be honest. Many would rather just go to a pub or for a pint rather than sit down for a full meal. And in those cases, customer service is important, so everything is done face to face."

"Interesting," I said, losing interest. It was nice having a custom meal come instantly when asked, rather just the snatch-and-grab style of normal dinner. The house elves had outdone themselves, as the meal was quite tasty. I can only imagine how hard they must be working to keep up like this. But I remember something Mr. Weasley said – wizards can't help but show off to other nations.

There wasn't much to say about the dinner, other than it was probably the best food I've had in a long time. Daphne and I both tried things I'd never seen at Hogwarts before, and probably wouldn't have again once the tournament was over.

Once finished, we let the food settle with some small talk. She was quite interesting in how I made her Shield Charm, and I could tell it was genuine interest rather that just passing the time, and she was quite impressed that someone who had taken no classes had managed it.

At some point, the bands changed out from the slow ballroom dance to – what I would find out later – was The Weird Sisters. The shift in the atmosphere changed subtly, but it was there, changing the modest tones of formal dance, into one of heightened intensity.

I watched the one member perform a solo on a saw blade, which was interesting. The music was pretty good actually, and I found myself standing up, holding my hand out to Daphne, and taking her out to the dance floor. I didn't hear her answer, since the music was quite a bit louder than it was before, but seeing as how she gave no resistance, I'd wager that her answer was yes.

There was no rhyme or reason to the dance, but there was rhythm. The slow twirling of couples turned into random limb flailing and overpacked people to get as close to the stage of possible, but I never let Daphne get separated. It was sort of fun, the random chaos.

"I don't know how to dance like this," I said laughingly to Daphne. I was just sort of moving my body every which way to the beat.

"You're not the only one," Daphne responded lightly. "Just go with it."

So we did, and it was fun. The closeness of quasi-romantic ballroom dancing we started with was sort of nice, but this was something else. I was right next to Daphne, inside her personal space, dancing to the frantic music, and it was great. I even found myself singing along with everyone else to the band's version of "I Put A Spell On You."

But, like all good things, it came to an end after about an hour. It was hot, even with all the magic flowing to ensure a comfortable room, and I was sweaty. I had never danced like that before, and although it was just dancing, and not rave-like grinding or anything like that, it was still great fun. I was starting to get a bit lightheaded, so I pulled on Daphne's arm and lead her out of the pack.

"I need some fresh air," I told her, leading her to the punch bowl

"Good idea," she responded, slightly out of breath. Her chest rising up and down did interesting things, not like I hadn't noticed throughout the night. I'd never let something like dancing get in way of important observations. "I think the Weasley twin's spiked the punch"

I already had the cup halfway to my lips but didn't even falter as I took a drink. "Yup."

She took her drink and shrugged, taking a big sip. "As weak as a house-elf's wine," she commented in distaste.

"I'll let the twins know that," I said with a laugh. I barely noticed the alcohol myself, if I was honest, so I wasn't very concerned. Speaking of the Weasley's though, I had spotted Ginny with Neville, who were currently chatting to each other across the room, and I did see the twins, but I didn't see Ron. In fact, I hadn't seen him the whole night, which was a bit odd, because I had spotted pretty much everyone I knew more than once. I was actually pretty positive I saw Eloise Midgen dancing with someone else – not that she was hard to spot. And Millicent was with who she said she was going with, and she even gave me a curt nod.

We talked about inane things for awhile, anything and everything other than my involvement in the tournament, and I was thankful. The distraction from reality was nice, even if it wouldn't last.

Eventually, the Ball died down and people went on their way. Some went outside for privacy, some probably went elsewhere for some more intimate situations. I walked Daphne to the hallway before the Slytherin common room.

Before we got there though, we ran into Cedric and Cho on the way to somewhere. He spotted me and requested a second of privacy.

"Hey, Harry," he started. "I never did get a chance to thank you for the tip on the dragons."

"Oh. Well, you would have done the same for me." I shrugged, unconcerned.

"Exactly," Cedric responded, taking a sidelong glance down the hallway. "If you're having trouble with your egg, try taking a bath with it. Just mull things over with it in the hot water, it'll help you think."

"Uh, thanks?"

"In fact, use the prefects' bathroom. It's the fourth door to the left of the statue of Boris the Bewildered on the fifth floor. The password is 'pine fresh'… good luck, I've got to say goodnight to Cho…"

He shot me a smile and a wink before returning to Cho and taking her down some forlorn passage way that may or may not have been the way to the Ravenclaw common room. I didn't want to know. I took up Daphne's arm again and led her towards the dungeons. I could have led her straight to the entrance of the Slytherin Common room, but since I shouldn't know where that is, and I didn't want to give away the secret of my second year Polyjuice excursion, I stopped a few turns short of the entrance.

We stood there for a few seconds, unsure of how to say goodbye. I tried first, but I was quite nervous. "I, uh, enjoyed tonight a lot more than I thought I would, and I, uh, thanks for coming with me."

"I had a good time too," Daphne responded softly. I stared into her orbs, etching their beauty into my mind just in case I never saw them again.

"Good. I'm glad," I said awkwardly. "It's a tradition, if, uh, if a girl enjoyed a date with a boy, to share a…. goodnight kiss, if you, if, uh…"

Daphne blinked once in surprise. "I've never, well, -"

Deciding to forgo any more uncomfortable moments, I went for it. I put my hands on her slim waist and leaned in. She put her arms on my shoulders and our faces slowly closed the distance, and I was focused on my goal.

Our lips met. It was a soft kiss, a bit moister than I'd imagined, and lasted around five bajillion seconds before I slowly pulled back. It wasn't intense, or lustful, but it was _something._ It was a kiss.

"Me either," I exhaled. Daphne blinked a few times, and she seemed to savor the new feeling.

She smiled after a few seconds, and blushed, but she quickly turned away. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow for my first Patronus lesson."

With that, she left.

Fucking hell.

* * *

**A/N.** So, I sort of forgot that I had finished this chapter months ago, so I quickly edited it so I could post it in time for Christmas. I'm sure there's a ton of grammar errors, but perfection is just so boring. I wish I put in more dialogue and rambled less in the beginning, but what's done is done.


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